The eternal night
by Lord of the Darkness
Summary: a cool story about drow and surface elves. first seen on sylvanus osir's page
1. The Eternal Night

Thirty-first day of the month of Marpenoth, also called the Day of the Dead. Forty-three lost souls running down a pitch black road in the dead of night, feeling the chill of the air, competing against the heat of the coming battle. We ran, all along screaming war cries at our unseen enemies. I raised my sentient Shamishir style scimitar, pointed my Musame long sword straight ahead, and started running down the road alongside my fellow elves, while screaming "Carpe Noctem!" I then hear my lieutenant, Nicalen, running along side me, with his two enchanted, dragon-hilted broadswords whirring and screaming obscenities.  
We struck our Drow attackers hard enough to cut down two dozen with just our initial charge, while only losing six or seven of our own. I paused to examine the enemy, to survey the chore at hand. The Drow force consisted of about fifty warriors, ten clerics and seven mages, and Drow are extremely skilled at their professions. I noticed the Drow were falling all around us, but so were our own forces. I felt the heat of the spells both our mages and theirs threw back and forth.   
As I felt my blade slip through the ribs of my enemy, I turned to the next nearest free Drow, but stalled in hopes of catching my breath.  
"Prayne de crabug ahm rinedere be-yogt iglo kes gron" I called teasingly.   
"Damare ketsu" he yelled back.  
"Oobie doobie ex flagulatem"I replied, not missing a beat.  
His face contorted in rage, "vith tir" he snarled, and charged-right on to the edge of my sentient sword, who, having been created to destroy evil entities, glowed brightly, -and telepathically begged for more. I watched the life fade from my opponents eyes, and barely heard his final curse, as he slipped from the edge of my weapon.  
I turned to face my next attacker, and realized that their were barely any enemies left to fight, so I slumped back in silent resignation of our victory. I nodded and smiled as Nicalen sank down in exhaustion next to me.   
"I killed two mages, three clerics, and thirteen warriors" he said  
"Three mages, four clerics and sixteen warriors" I grinned back.  
"I'll beat you next time" he said, feining annoyance  
I suddenly felt a chill, as if I questioned if there would be a next time.  
"We shall see" I said grimly.  
He looked at curiously, questioning my meaning, but seeing I wasn't going to respond, he slumped back and rested.  
You must understand a few things. Nicalen and I are the heads of the elven branch of a covert resistance movement, determined to destroy the Drow army, under the command of Matron Immuriel, who is attempting to form an above ground colony in hopes of one day conquering the entire surface world (Drow live in the underground world called the Underdark). Nicalen and I, being elves as we were, and Drow being our mortal enemies, readily took up the task of their destruction. We were soon joined by a rank of dwarves, whose mines were in danger of being raided, and though I personally don't have any kind of liking of dwarves, we weren't about to turn away any help, especially since half of them were clerics, and we desperately needed their healing spells.  
Then came our backbone. Unannounced and uninvited, but hardly unwanted, thirty mages showed up at our door, coming from the Hosttower of the Arcane, who supposedly wanted to supervise and aid our mission, although i'm sure they, like most humans, hoped for some form of power or influence to come to them.  
Now that you understand, we return to the battlefield. Our clerics go around, healing our wounded, and a task force going around, beheading the Drow bodies, just for assurance that they were all dead. We only keep one or two prisoners from each battle, as Drow are too dangerous to take chances with.   
Then we fall back and begin planning our next attack, and continue to push the Drow back to the bleak, dark holes from which they emerged.   
It is the fourth day of Nightal. My advisors and I sat in a strategist room, planning our next attack. We had expected a retalliation, but had not heard much from the Drow in the last month. Then our intelligence came through with reports of a large-scale operation our enemies planned on using in hopes of eliminating us altogether. But we wouldn't go down without a fight.   
I do make light of the task, but deep down, I fear we may be in over our heads, our forces still recovering from the last battle. So turn my attention to the meeting, just as Onyx Castlemeir, the dwarven general stands up and speaks.  
"I still feel we would do better to attack underground."  
"What kind of an idiot are you!?" I screamed at him, finally losing control. "The Drow live underground! They would then have every possible advantage!"  
"We wouldn't be in the tunnels, we could collapse the tunnels on top of them, crippling them at worst.  
"Because none of my elves are going to go running around in some dwarf-made hole in the ground, and risk far to many casulties!" I growled, thoroughly annoyed at the idea, even though it was a reasonable idea.   
My paladine advisor, Sir William of Martin, the only human present, other than our mage leader, tried his best to calm me, but the dwarf hefted his battle ax and sneered, which annoyed me more. I then turned to Nicalen and created our own more private meeting.  
The following morning, the morning of our attack, I sat, very nervous as I sharpened my Musame long sword and talked to my sentient sword about the coming battle.  
"Nervous, are you?" the weapon asked.  
"Of course not" I lied.  
"I have telepathy, you stupid elf."  
"Shut up, sword" I replied hastily.  
Then Sir William entered the room and announced the time of our march drew near, and then stoically as always, turned and walked silently away.  
After a days march, we arrived at the Drow complex, about an hour before dawn. After convicing myself they were not suspicious of an attack, I had our mages cast various protection spells on us, and we began to climb the wall. Once my own group reached the ground on the other side, we, meaning Nicalen, Sir William, two mages, and seven Dwarven clerics, made our way to the main complex, which was the mouth of a cave which led back to the Underdark.  
I held Faer Daphen, my talking sword out, as it conjured a magical light to guide us.  
Eventually, we found our way to the main audience hall, and prepared for the coming battle. As we called out our various war-cries, Sir William smashed in the door, and we charged in... to an empty room. I paused for a moment to admire the beauty of the Drow handiwork that filled the room.  
Then I heard a noise that chilled my bones-- laughter. I turned slowly to see Matron Immuriel sitting on her chair looking at us amusingly. We had been set up. She made a signal, and thirty Drow dropped down from the ceiling. In just that initial attack, they slew a mage, and five dwarves. I charged, blocking a blow directed at my head, made a feint to the left, swung right at the last and beheaded my opponent. I swung again, and just by pure luck, disemboweled another potential enemy. I saw a pile of enemies around Nicalen, and Sir William, with his Holy Avenger two-handed sword, cut down three Drow in one swing. I could feel the heat of spells, both arcane and clerical, being thrown back and forth. We battled on, but for every Drow that was slaughtered, two more replaced it.   
Only me, Nicalen, and sir William were alive, but I then saw the Paladin go down, a sword in his chest and a dagger in his skull. I realized just then that we were fighting a hopeless battle.   
Then my very heart was racked with horror as I saw Nicalen, my best lieutenant and closest friend, fell. I was fighting alone for my life, even though I knew it was a worthless effort. It didn't take long before I felt the sting of a blade slipping through my ribs, and reach for my heart. I looked down at the blood, my blood gushing out of my chest and through my fingers.  
I turned to the matron and cried through the pain "Dos orn neitar g'jahall udossa", Drow for "you will never defeat us."  
I then sank back, felt the Drow begin hacking and mutilating my body. Then I was engulfed in darkness and knew no more.... 


	2. The Eternal Night-chapter 2

...My eyes opened gently. I squinted as if I had never seen light before. I tried to discern my surroundings, but the glare was too bright. As my eyes readjusting, I gradually became aware of the small chamber, formed out of rock. The far wall was bare except for a small porthole, the size of my head. Then I turned to look at the opposite wall, which had a door with bars across the port window. Bars. I was a prisoner.   
Then the memories came flooding back. First who I was, my name. Then the fight. Our fight with the Drow. The trap they set. Nicalen dying at their hands. The laugh of the Matron, blood, my blood flowing through my fingers.  
I was sobbing now. I had lost everything. My hopes, my plans, my closest friend. I began to wonder if the rest of our companions had survived. Probably not. How could they? Then I started to think about why the had resurrected me. That was an easy one, though. The Drow lived to torture. I shuddered at the thoughts of what awaited me. I thought of my sentient blade, the family treasure that had been passed down from my fathers fathers fathers father, An enormous amount of time for an elf, who stole it from a mage tower when the elven armies were still fighting Drow on the surface. Then I began to think, more in desperate hopefulness than actual expectance if they had revived Nicalen.   
He had been my friend since my parents had been killed by human sentries serving some false goddess. His family took me in and supported me through my childhood. Then our village was raided by the Drow, and his parents, my family, was murdered. I took my sword and killed the two Drow that had killed his mother, while he avenged his father.   
A week later, we met a small Elvin war party trying to ward off the Drow from harming any other innocents, and joined them in hopes of avenging our home. After settling down, we quickly arose to a leadership position and drove the Drow back to their holes in the ground.  
Then suddenly I was awaken from my thoughts by a key being thrust into the lock. The door thrust open, and two Drow, one soldier and one mage, both male, stepped into the room. The soldier walked over calmly and kicked me square in the face. Blood dripped from my nose, and I felt a tooth fall from my mouth. He grabbed my hair and dragged me to my feet. I struggled for a moment, but subsided, knowing it would only make it worse.  
"Move yer ass, stupid elf!" he replied in the common tongue, which surprised me, Drow usually didn't learn common. He pushed me to the door, and I stumbled into the corridor. I was ushered into a dark room filled with hundreds of devices of torture. They pushed me to a small wooden table and sat me down. My escorts were dismissed by the cleric who worked the room.  
"I have a surprise for you." She sneered. She magically dragged a huge table covered by a white cloth. Blood from whatever was hidden was seeping through the fabric.. she pulled the cloth away, and to my horror, it was the mutilated corpse of the paladin, Sir William, who, though a human, fought and died next to me and Nicalen. I said a quick prayer to Dahlis, the Elven goddess of souls, for his eternal peace, and though an empty threat, I vowed to avenge him.  
I watched, with hidden fear as the bitch Drow came closer, she began chanting some evil spell. I watched in anticipation as the sweat beaded on her forehead. She increased the pace of her chance, she neared her climax, I flinched as she reached the end of the spell. Suddenly her chanting ceased and her eyes grew wide, blood spurted from her mouth. I was splattered with mixed blood and saliva, as she fell to her knees. I looked, curiously, beyond her, and saw a huge figure, about 7 feet tall holding two bastard swords and wearing full plate mail.   
I looked back to the dead Drow, and noticed a dagger the size of my forearm sticking out of the back of her neck, which was already mostly severed.   
"Why are you here, elf?" he stated flatly.  
"I like the scenery this time of year." I replied sarcastically.  
"Well then I won't bother you." He sneered and turned to walk away.  
"Alright, I'm sorry, please untie me." I said discordantly.  
"You know, I don't like elves. Their to stuck up. Usually, I would let you die. Possibly even aid in the process. But I hate Drow more, and would do as much as possible to thwart them, but don't expect me to do it again, 'cause it won't happen."  
He ripped the huge dagger from the Drow's back, decapitating the flaccid body in the process, and roughly cut the bindings off the chair.  
"Ya hurt?" he asked, more out of curiosity than concern.  
"I am fine, no need to worry," I said, "but I have a friend whose body I would like to find, if you could aid me."  
"I'll aid you, but only to piss off the Drow, and for my goddess, Halinsia, who sent me on this noble quest." He made the sign of goddess, and it was then that it hit me.  
"You're a paladin."  
His eyes filled with fury. "Of course! What part of that surprises you, Elvin freak!"  
"You're just so...well...not lawful and stoic. That's how every paladin I've ever seen has been. I thought that was their code of honor...."  
He lifted his swords, as if to cut me down, but caught himself, and lowered his eyes in shame. "I have lost my honor," he said through his rage "and I am here to regain it."  
"I see. Well you saved me, so can I help you?"  
"Just don't die in these shit hole caves." With that he turned and walked away.  
I shook my head at the unusual attitude, and wasn't surprised he had lost his honor, if a human has such a thing anyway. Then I remembered my own predicament.  
Being as quiet as possible, I crept out into the corridor and walked slowly through the tunnels. I was about to head to the exit, but then I remembered my sword and Nicalen. The sword was of good alignment, and a family heirloom what's more. And the only thing I had left of my own family. And as for Nicalen, I couldn't let his body be desecrated by the dark elf scum. I decided to do a search, but I needed a weapon. I walked silently down the corridor as quickly as I could, but my fears were without merit, as I encountered nothing. Eventually, I came back to the audience chamber. It was still stained with blood. The memories of the battle haunted me, as I walked through the hall. Then a flash caught my eye. Fearing an attack, I turned. I approached cautiously, keeping to the shadows, and stalked the reflective object.   
When I finally recognized what it was, my spirits flew through the roof of my head. My sword! I rushed over to it and picked it up from the ground. Instantly my mind was filled with an axtra awarnes that was always brought on when I held the sentient blade. Such a beutiful weapon. The handle was made from the heart of a treant, the tree-like guardians of all the forests of the planet. The blade curved elegantly, glowing with magical runes which would shine even brighter when evil was near. And then I saw something that filled my heart with recognition, then sadness, then fear. One of Nicalen swords, shoved cleanly into the floor of the audience hall. No dark elf could ever touch his family blade, as well as any other creature, for that matter. Then it wouldremain in this place as a memorial to the brave creatures who fought in this battle, I thought to myself.  
Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming from one of the entrances. I quickly hid myself among the corpses of my former friends. I expected Drow, but what I saw filled me with joy. Necalen was walking into the room, bastard sword in hand glowing like a candle. 


End file.
